


In This Wild, Wild, World

by spac3bar7end3r



Series: In These Alternative Universes, I Still Choose You [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, M/M, Malfoy moved to US
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:00:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24090976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spac3bar7end3r/pseuds/spac3bar7end3r
Summary: His words don't sound menacing compared to 11-year-old Malfoy’s words when they were at Hogwarts.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: In These Alternative Universes, I Still Choose You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1738036
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	In This Wild, Wild, World

**Author's Note:**

> I first wrote this in Thai but I translated it since I realized I've never written Drarry in English before.  
> It was for the prompt: “Just follow me, I know the area.”

**In This Wild, Wild, World**

_“Just follow me, I know the area.”_

Harry Potter groggily looks down on his wristwatch that just got changed into Seattle time. The screen on his phone is devoid of any new text from the members of his team. Although the magic world is already keeping up with the muggle’s, those conservative aurors are still goddamn headstrong and insist on contacting him via owls. Harry shakes his head. If they love the old way that much, why not use a bloom or a portkey and fly across the ocean themselves, why make Harry suffer through hours of pain on a plane? (But to be honest, Harry does not like travelling through a port key that much since it makes him nauseous like crazy.)

_‘This mission is critical. Plus, there’s quite a chance that it could get you promoted to be the next head auror real quick. What do you say, eh?’_

Harry thinks of Robards’ word… honestly, he doesn’t care about this head auror position. He doesn’t even care about his job. He just doesn’t know what to do with his life and being an auror is the only profession he can think of after doing nothing and trying to gather himself 3 years after the war.

_‘Seattle reminds me of Fifty Shades of Grey.’_ Harry types on his phone and sends it to the group chat that consists of him, Ron, and Hermione. Both texts back as soon as his text was read even though it’s currently midnight in London.

He doesn’t look at what they say after that. Harry just wants to at least send a text to tell someone that he has successfully brought his exhausted 21-year-old ass from London to Seattle (and Ron and Hermione are the only one who cares enough about Harry’s well-being). The young auror puts his phone back in his coat pocket and sighs, stepping on a sidewalk sluggishly.

Seattle is...bigger than he thought. Harry used to secretly read about it on Uncle Vernon’s thrown-away newspaper, or sometimes listened to what the tv said when Aunt Petunia wasn’t noticing that he was ‘slacking off.’

The world outside the cupboard under the stairs of 4 Privet Drive is a pretty big place. Harry has been living for more than twenty years and sometimes he still wants to bawl his eyes out when he thinks that he finally escaped from that. It was a struggle, with Voldemort and a lot of things happening, but he is free now.

Harry decides to push the door of the first restaurant he sees on the street opened. It’s just 4 in the afternoon, but he’s starving. Muggle plane food was horrible.

He glances around, green eyes looking for the seat that looks the most comfortable. He doesn’t want to sound like a prat, but his arse is absolutely killing him right now. The plane seat was rubbish. Didn’t the auror get any damn budget from the ministry?

The first time he sees _him,_ he doesn’t notice until the second look. It is the first time he sees this blond, pale, young man laughs so brightly. He doesn’t even register that it is Malfoy. Draco fucking Malfoy. Malfoy looks… happier than before. He seems more potent than before (considering that those last two years Harry saw him the other seemed so pale and thin as if he could drop to the ground at any given moment.) and he looks...more confident than before.

Harry thinks that maybe he can’t remember Harry as well when Harry walks through the door or maybe he just doesn’t notice, but after Harry is in the middle of the restaurant and gets closer without realising, Malfoy turns his head and looks at Harry. 

And by look Harry meant he _looks_ at everything. He shifts his gaze and openly stares at Harry from head to toe. Starting from his messy black hair, glasses with the same shape from before (— and yes, he’s never changed his glasses. Hermione always uses repairo to repair the frame for him. He just changed the lens sometimes when his prescription changed.).

He also stares at the lightning scar that no matter how many times Harry tried to cover it with his fringe, it still shows up and greets the outside world all the time.

3 years after the war makes Harry tougher, more solemn, but at the same times, it’s also draining him little by little. He looks much older than he should be. And now he’s so self-conscious about how he looks in Malfoy’s eyes that he feels his cheeks flush.

“Having a vacation, Potter?”

“No.” Harry throws himself on the stool next to Malfoy. It is not much better than the plane seat, but he doesn’t notice it since he is busy checking Malfoy out as well. From his blonde hair to his fingertips that are currently tapping his mug lightly.

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, “Then you came here to work? You’re working? Yeesh, you look like you could use at least ten paid holidays.”

“And you look like you’ve been having a vacation for ten years.” He means Malfoy looks good. Really good. The kind of good that Harry may or may not want to ask him out.

“Yeah? Three years in college makes me like this, I guess.”

Now it’s time for Harry to raise his eyebrows. He tries to think of what to say because that statement alone has opened up many questions that he wants to ask Malfoy, but he settles with, “You’re studying in Muggle’s university?”

“Nomaj.”

“What?”

“I haven’t heard anyone say muggle for a really long time and yes, Potter, I am currently enrolled in Muggle’s college.” Malfoy points to his laptop. The screen is bright and full of lengthy text — Harry thinks it is some kind of program? App? (What’s the difference anyway?) He believes it is that program called Microsoft Word or something. He is not sure. Although he is more ‘trendy’ than those in the ministry, he spends most of his time in the wizarding world, and he doesn’t need to use muggle’s technology that much. His phone is even an old model, a flip phone that he bought it from a second-hand store.

“Old friend, huh, Draco?” A voice breaks out from behind the counter. The owner of the voice is a bloke with shiny long brown hair. He looks like he’s the same age as both of them. The bloke is putting one hand on his hip. The blue apron moves lightly from his movement. He just smiles toothily at both of them, especially at Draco. “Introduce me to him.”

The American accent that he’s not familiar with throws Harry off for a second or two. It seems like this restaurant’s employee is a good friend of Malfoy. _Surprisingly good_ , he thinks since Malfoy is sitting at the counter seat and he had been giggling with him when Harry entered. Are they, you know, more than friends or something? It’s not like he wants to know or anything but well…

“It’s complicated.” Malfoy shrugs, closing his laptop and putting it in his tote bag slowly, then he grabs his mug and drinks it in one go. “I’ll pay for this later. Gotta go.”

“You stingy.” The employee complains before saying, “I finally get it though. You do have a type. No wonder…” He smiles knowingly at Malfoy.

Harry doesn’t understand what they are talking about, but when he turns to look at Malfoy, the other just stands up abruptly. He presses his lips together, looking at anywhere but Harry. He tucks his blonde hair that was covering his face behind his ear, face flushing.

“Just follow me, Potter, I know the area.” Malfoy clears his throat, taking long steps to the door. “The faster you finish your job, the faster you can bring your ugly mug back to London.”

His words don't sound menacing compared to 11-year-old Malfoy’s words when they were at Hogwarts.

And Harry follows.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a part of a series called In These Alternative Universes, I Still Choose You. There're 13 fics in total. 12 is already done but in another language.


End file.
